PTB's Writing Challenge 2013
by swervin35
Summary: A series of Twilight one-shots for the PTB's Writing Challenge 2013. I'm going to attempt all the challenges, but if I don't get them all done and edited by the end of the year, that's fine. I'll at least accomplish my goal of participating.
1. Cake Rock Summit

Challenge Number/Title: #1—Rocky Horizon

Date Posted: 01/20/2013

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: PG-13 (present tense)

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Drama/ Angst/Romance

Character Pairing: Edward/Bella

Cake Rock Summit

_Yeah, this was a wonderful idea,_ I think as I follow Edward up the rocky slope. "Whose idea was this anyway?" I ask when we stop halfway up.

"Yours, love," Edward responds with a chuckle, handing me a bottle of water from his backpack. "We had to do something to meet the physical education college credit requirement, and since a sport was out of the question for you, hiking was the next best option."

I sneer at him before taking a huge drink, not caring when water courses out the corners of my mouth.

"Easy, Bella. You'll get sick if you drink too fast."

"Says the football player." I look over at Edward with a huge smile. "But you're right—I only got a third in my mouth. The rest is on my shirt. "

He shakes his head. "Okay. Ready to continue?"

"I'd rather go back down," I remark with a sigh. "But I need to do this."

Edward and I start to slowly climb again.

I look up at the sky and see the light breeze tickling the leaves. "I'm glad we choose today. It's warm and overcast."

"Yea," Edward remarks. "I hope we make it to the top and back down before it starts raining."

Rain. Ugh. I hope it doesn't rain for a good, long while, but that is life in the Olympic Peninsula.

We continue on in silence. Edward is ahead of me and disappears around a corner. A minute later, I round the same corner. _The top. Finally_, I think, panting.

When I catch my breath, I look up and around for Edward. He's not in sight, and there's only the one path. "Edward!"

No answer comes.

"Edward!" I yell again.

Still nothing.

My eyes scan the rocky cliff and the wooded area behind me. I'm panicking. I move toward the trees. "Edward," I call out. "This isn't funny."

No sound, not even a crack of a fallen twig. _Okay, he's not there._

I turn, my gaze falling on the cliff's edge. "Surely not," I mumble.

Getting down on my stomach, I make my way slowly toward the edge. I peer over, and there lies Edward, unmoving.

"Edward!" I shout.

_Think, Bella. What needs to be done?_

I pull out my cell, praying I have reception. _Thank God!_

I dial Charlie.

"Hey, Bells. Are you and Edward back?" Charlie questions.

"N-o-o," I answer with a sob. "Edward fell."

"Where are you?" he asks.

"Cake Rock Summit."

"Let me talk to Edward."

"Charlie, he fell. He's on a shelf below the cliff's edge." Still on my stomach, I press my cell closer to my ear. "He's not moving."

"I'm going to call the state park and the Cullens. Help is on the way, Bells."

Twenty minutes later, a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. "Bella," Jacob's gentle voice coaxes close to my ear. "We need you to move."

I turn my tear-streaked face toward Jacob. "I c-can-n't."

"I know, but you have to," he says gently. "I'll help you."

Inch by inch, Jacob and I move away from the edge. He keeps his hand on my back, guiding and reassuring, never leaving for a moment.

"Emmett," Jacob calls once he has me away from the edge.

I find myself in Emmett's warm embrace. "Edward will be fine," he says as I begin to shake.

"H-he's wasn't—_isn't_ moving."

I stand back and watch as three rescuers disappear over the edge, repelling down to where Edward is lying.

A radio crackles.

"Edward's breathing," comes a distance, disembodied voice. "Looks like he may have a broken arm and leg."

"Is he conscious?" Sam, the park ranger, asks.

"No. Send the basket down."

From the moment the basket is brought out to when those rescuers still on the peak lower it, I don't think I took a breath.

"All right, he's secure. Start bringing it up."

As soon as Edward is in sight, Emmett's arm tightens around me. "Let Jacob and the others do their job."

"Bella," Jacob calls once Edward is lifted into the back of a truck I hadn't noticed. "Edward's mumbling for you. Hop in the back and hold on. Emmett, you too."

Edward reaches for me once I'm in the bed of the truck.

I take his outstretched hand in mine. "You're going to be fine," I whisper, kissing his dirty and blood-covered cheek.

"I guess I should have listened to you. We should have turned around at the halfway point," he whispers.

"Don't think about that, Edward."

"It's just that I wanted to watch the sunset with you."

"We can some other day."

"There is still something I want to ask you." Edward winces as the truck hits a series of bumps.

"Careful," I yell through the one rear window.

Edward tightens his grip on my hand. "They can't help it," he says with a tight smile. "Emmett."

"Right here, bro."

"Right pant pocket, take out what's in it. Don't open it," Edward instructs, his eyes not moving from mine.

Emmett slides a hand into his brother's right pocket and pulls out a small velvet box.

Edward squeezes my hand again at the same time I gasp. "Isabella, there's nothing I can say to express my love more now than thank you." He winces again, shutting his eyes a moment. "Thank you for loving me, for calling for help. I love you so much."

At that, Emmett flips open the velvet box.

My hand flies to my mouth; the other, still holding Edward's, clutches him harder .

"Will you marry me, Isabella?" Edward asks with another squeeze, drawing my attention back to him.

A second later, the truck comes to a stop.

"Isabella?"

"Yes," I answer, finding my voice again.

Emmett holds the velvet box as Edward removes the ring.

My hand shakes as Edward slips the ring on my finger. I lean over and kiss him softly.

"All right, Emmett, Jacob, get me out of this contraption so I can give my girl a proper kiss."

"What?" I exclaim in question.

Edward starts laughing. "I climbed down to the ledge. I slipped the last foot. The only thing that happened is I sprained my ankle."

I slap Edward's shoulder. "I thought you were seriously hurt. Don't you ever do that to me again."

Edward sits up and cups my cheek. "I promise, love." He seals his promise with a kiss.

The End

**A/N: This is the first one-shot of 52 for the PTB Writing Challenge. Thanks to RaindropSoup and GetDrunkOnVictory for helping me in editing chapter.**

**The best ends are sometimes a surprise. I hope you enjoyed.**


	2. Who Knew

Challenge Number/Title: #2—Empty Glass

Date Posted: 01/29/2013

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: PG-13

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Drama

Character Pairing: Edward/Bella

Who Knew

It's a curious thing—an empty glass. To some, it's a symbol of failure. To others, it's something to be filled. However, to me it's a reminder of what I lost, or rather almost lost, and of what I gained in the end.

My name is Isabella Swan, but for those close to me, I'm known as Bella.

I can't believe it's only been three days. Three days is not a long time, but for those who witnessed my near breakdown, it's a lifetime. Perhaps, I should let you know what happened. Let's go back to Friday, the day everything went straight to hell.

I wake with a smile; today is one of the last of my high school days. I'll walk the halls of Forks High School for the final time, the anticipation of graduating Sunday night heavy on my mind. It is going to be a good day, only a run-through of the graduation ceremony. In the fall, I'll be off to Seattle University, along with my hot next-door neighbor and best friend, Edward.

"Hey, Bells," Charlie greets, handing me a stack of pancakes.

"Thanks." I sit at the table, savoring the syrup-covered pancakes.

"Orange juice or milk," Charlie as he sets an empty glass on the table. Turning, he starts to walk straight toward the refrigerator. To my surprise he stumbles, almost like he is drunk; I know better since he only drinks on occasion and only one or two at that. I continue to watch him in confusion, and without warning he falls to one knee.

"Charlie!" I yell, getting up and forgetting my pancakes. I rush over to him.

"Call 9-1-1," he instructs.

Picking up the house phone, I dial the necessary number.

"9-1-1 what's the nature of your emergency?"

"I believe my father is having a stroke."

"Bella, is that you?" the dispatcher asks.

"Yes, please send an ambulance."

_This can't be happening,_ I think as I kneel next to Charlie, taking his hand. "Help is on the way," I say, my voice tight with unshed tears. He'll start to panic if I start crying.

Charlie looks up at me as I take his hand, confusion marring his features. His eyes are focusing on me. It was almost as if he didn't know who I was. "Bells," he murmurs. He's breathing rapidly, like he's just run a mile.

I can hear sirens in the distance. "I'll be right back."

I don't want to leave his side, but I have to open the door for the paramedics. Rushing to the front door, I unlock it. I'm about to lose control, and I see Edward walking to his car.

"Edward!" I yell, motioning for him.

"Hey," he says, joining me on the porch and looking at me with a concern. His hand comes up, wiping away a tear. "What's wrong?"

"Charlie … kitchen," I say as an ambulance stops in front of the house. Tears start flowing down my face. I'm not ready to lose my dad.

Edward wraps an arm around me, moving me out of the way for the paramedics. "He's in the kitchen," he tells the first paramedic.

Neighbors are starting to gather on the sidewalk across the street.

Five minutes later, Charlie is being wheeled out on a stretcher.

"Come on," Edward says. "I'll drive you to the hospital."

I'm in a daze as I get into Edward's car, tears still falling. "This can't be happening," I mumble.

"Call my mom. Tell her what's happened and to come home." Edward shouts at someone as he gets in.

_How had I forgotten about Esme? Why wasn't she here?_

"He'll be fine, Bella. My dad's on duty." He takes hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Your mom?" I ask.

"In Port Angeles," he answers.

That's right. She was to meet a new client today, but she'll reschedule. I am like a daughter to her, and she would hate finding out later that I had to go through this alone, well not exactly alone.

From the moment Edward escorts me into the emergency room, everything moves in slow motion. Charlie is somewhere in the back. I try to get to him, but the nurses won't let me. Each time I try to get by them, they stop me, saying, "The doctor will be out shortly to speak with me."

I want to shake and shout at them—"It's my dad. Let me back there"—but I restrain myself. Charlie won't like it if I cause a scene. I only have one choice—wait for the doctor, whoever that is.

I'm numb with fear, unresponsive. The only thing I'm aware of is Edward holding me and the clock I'm staring at—two hours and no one's been out to tell me what's wrong with Charlie.

A half hour later, Edward adjusts his hold on me, raising a hand. "Mom, over here," he calls, his voice sounds hollow and distant.

"Let me take her," Esme says, sitting next to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. She continues on speaking, but I'm hardly listening; I'm sure she is telling Edward to go to school, though.

I grip Edward's shirt when he goes to shift me. He's my rock. I'll breakdown if he leaves.

Edward sighs. "See what you can find out," he says, removing one hand from my back. "Bella hasn't been told anything especially who is taking care of Charlie."

The chair next to squeezes as Esme gets up. I see her moving toward the nurses' station. _Good luck_, I silently wish her.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," Edward whispers against my hair. He kisses the side of my head.

"Carlisle will be out in a few minutes," Esme says, returning. She wraps an arm around me and the other around her son.

We sit in silence for a long time, and another half hour passes.

"Bella," Carlisle calls.

I look up as Carlisle approaches. He's smiling. That's a good sign—at least I think it is.

"Your father is going to be fine. It wasn't a stroke."

"Then what?" I ask, pulling away from Edward. My voice is thick from all the tears.

"Aspirin poisoning," Carlisle responds, taking a seat in a chair across from me. "It has some of the same outward symptoms as a stroke."

"Thank God," Esme states, rubbing my back as I sob in relief.

"Treatment?" Edward asks.

"We've pumped his stomach," Carlisle answers. "And I've got him on an IV fluids and IV sodium bicarbonate. He'll be able to go home later today. He's asleep right now, but wanted me to tell you to go to school."

"Uh, we get out in an hour," Edward informs, glancing over at the clock.

"Then go home," Esme says with a wave of her hand. "I've already let the school know what is going on and that neither of you would be there."

"Thanks," I whisper. A hiccup follows soon after.

I stand and Edward wraps an arm around my waist. He walks with me out of the hospital and toward his car. Silence envelopes us as he drives me back home.

"Do you mind if I stay?" Edward asks, following me inside.

"You don't even have to ask, Edward. You're a good friend."

"Friend?"

I turn and look at him. "Yes," I say, blushing.

"Since when?"

"What?" I ask, peering up at him through my lashes. We flirt like this all the time, but he has shown no interest in something more.

Edward shuffles from foot to foot and rubs the back of his neck. "My timing couldn't be worse, but"—he rubs the back of his neck again—"would you be my girlfriend?"

I stare at Edward, beating my ear with the flat of my hand. Surely, I heard him wrong. "Excuse me," I say. "Did you just ask me to be your …"

He moves closer and silences me with a kiss. "You heard me. Be my girlfriend, Bella."

I nod and he kisses me once more.

I pull away, hugging him, and from over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the kitchen table—the glass. I'll never look at an empty glass the same way again. My dad is healthy and will be home tonight, but the icing on the cake is Edward and I becoming more to each other.

"I love you," I whisper against his lips, kissing him. Today is definitely a good day—an empty glass, who knew.

The End

My dad is healthy and will be home tonight, but the icing on the cake is Edward and I becoming more to each other.

"I love you," I whisper against his lips. Today is definitely a good day—an empty glass, who knew.

The End


	3. The School Teacher and the Principal

Challenge Number/Title: #3—Word Play

Date Posted: 02/02/2013

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: PG-13

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Drama

Character Pairing: Edward/Bella

The School Teacher and the Principal

"In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king." I write on the blackboard before reading it aloud.

"Ms. Swan," one of my students calls.

"Yes, Claire."

"What does that mean?"

"Can anyone answer the question?" I move away from the blackboard and to the front of my desk, leaning against it. I'm interested in how my second graders will interpret the quote.

"Well, it certainly doesn't mean a one-eyed man is suddenly going to become king," quips the class clown, Matthew.

The class erupts into laughter.

I stifle a groan. I fear I'm going to have another conversation with his father and my husband, Edward. _Joy! _Why my own son is in my class is beyond me.

"Anyone else?" I ask.

The class grows quiet and no one raises their hand.

"It means that anyone who is not particularly capable of something can attain a powerful position if the people around them are even less capable."

"Like conquering a summit," Matthew states, leaning forward. I think I've got his attention.

"A little like that, but think a grander scale," I say, encouragingly.

"President," a female student replies.

"Yes, which leads us to today's writing assignment."

I ignore the groans from my students.

"You are running for president," I start while passing out the handouts. "The major problem in the country is a shortage of cabbage, and I'm not talking money, but the vegetable." I eye my son. He's a bright kid, but at times, he's a handful—especially in school. At home, he's easier to deal with. "I'm looking for a detailed reason why you should be made a candidate. I will read each essay and select two students to represent the class on the student council."

Another round of groans erupts.

"The student council is for losers," Seth McCarty shouts, throwing a wad of paper at Matthew.

"Ow!"

"Seth! To the principal's office." I point to the door.

I turn, seeing Ms. Hale is in the doorway and she steps aside to allow our nephew to pass through the door. I follow him, making eye contact with her.

"I've got it," she whispers, stepping in my classroom which had fallen quiet, almost like a tomb. Scribbling is heard as the remaining students start on the assignment.

I run my hand through my hair. Seth is sitting outside the principal's office with his arms folded across his chest' I'm glad he's still waiting. What was I going to do with him? He reminds of his father, Emmett, and to face the principal—I shake my head. No, he didn't need to.

I kneel in front of him. "Seth, you do know that throwing anything at another student is wrong?"

"Yes," he mutters.

"Then why?"

"Because the assignment is dumb," he says, looking up at me with tears in his eyes.

"Why is that?"

"I don't write good enough to get chosen."

"It's 'well enough' and I'm not grading on grammar, but on your reason."

"Really?"

"Yes. Grammar is important, but I'm more interested in why."

Seth gives me a watery smile.

"Now, if you apologize to Matthew, you don't have to face the principal."

"Okay."

"All right, get back to class. Ms. Hale has an extra special art assignment," I say, straightening up.

"You have got to stop doing that, Ms. Swan."

I jump with a little shriek. Turning slowly around, I come face-to-face with the principal, Mr. Cullen. "I thought I would save you the trouble of giving Seth the same lecture again."

"In my office," he says.

I enter, following him and closing the door behind us. "Bella," he says with a shake of his head. "You can't do my job for me."

"I know, Edward, but it was still my call on whether to send him in or not."

"True, still I have to punish you for teasing me with the possibility of lecturing a student." He draws me into his arms.

"Edward! It's the middle of the school day," I whisper.

That doesn't stop him. His lips descend and capture mine. It's a brief kiss and leaves me aching for more.

He steps away and winks at me before starting to yell. "It's my job to dish out punishments to students!"

I cringe at this. "I'm sorry, sir, but he is my student," I yell back, playing along. The teaching staff knows we are married, but I told Edward to treat me as if I am any other teacher.

"And you sent him to be dealt with by me." Edward eyes twinkle as his smile reaches them, though his tone is harsh. He loves when teachers take charge of a wayward student. He only wants to deal with problems that we can't handle.

"All Seth did was throw a wad of paper at another student. I thought giving him the illusion of having to face you would be enough to scare him."

"And it worked?" Edward's tone softens and his hand comes up, cupping my cheek.

"Surprisingly, yes," I answer. "Sometimes that's all they need—a little scare. Seth's not a troublemaker, but if I didn't send him out of the room, who knows what another student would have tried in the future."

Edward looks thoughtfully at me. "I wish all the teachers were like you." Holding my gaze, he brushes his lips against mine again. "That's all," he says. "You can return to your class."

"I'll see you tonight," I remark with my hand on the doorknob.

Edward chuckles. "About that ..."

I turn around, waiting with tears threatening to spill over. If he's going to cancel on me again—

"Five o'clock too early?"

Huh? I stare at him.

"Dinner," he simply says, taking a seat behind his desk.

"No, that's a good time."

I exit his office in a daze. Ms. Hale is waiting for me. "I took your students to the lunchroom."

"Thanks."

We walk into the teacher's lounge in search of lunch.

"Bella, you're acting strange. What happened?"

"Alice, I'm not sure. He yelled at me for letting Seth off the hook." I shrug, it didn't matter.

Alice knows Edward hates when he has to yell at me during the school day. "I thought he was going to cancel on me again," I say in a low voice.

She raises a brow.

I shake my head. "Dinner."

It is later that night, and I'm pacing in our living room. It's a quarter after five and Edward's late. He's never late. I'm just picking up my phone, when there's a knock at the door.

Disappointment washes over me when I find it's not Edward. "Ms. Swan?" a balding and well-dressed gentleman asks.

I nod, fear coursing through me. If he's here to tell me that Edward is held up in a meeting, I'm going to drive back to school and drag him out.

He smiles gently at me. "If you are ready to go," he says, motioning to the waiting town car.

My jaw drops. _Will Edward ever cease to amaze me?_ I think.

I pick up my purse and a light sweater. I follow the driver and before I slip in the backseat he hands me a blindfold.

"Mr. Cullen asks that you wear this."

I shake my head. "So I don't know where you're taking me."

"Precisely," he says, closing the door once I'm inside.

I slip the blindfold over my eyes. I hate not being able to see, but luckily the windows are tinted so no one will see me like this.

"He assures me you will like the place," the driver says when we are on the road.

I'm on edge. The driver hasn't said a word in twenty minutes—at least I think it's been that long. "How much longer?" I ask.

The car stops, I hear the engine cut off, and feel a cool breeze enter the backseat when the door opens.

"Let me help you out, love."

I shiver as Edward's breath tickles my ear.

"Can I take off this damn blindfold?" I ask as he takes hold of my hand.

"Not yet." He scoops me up into his arms the moment I'm out of the car, silencing my outcry with a kiss. "Trust me, it will be much easier for me to carry you the rest of the way."

With a huff, I concede to his wisdom and sight. "Can I at least know where I am?"

He gives a little chuckle. "Of course," he answers. "You are in my arms."

I sigh out in frustration. "And where are you?" I ask, thinking I know the answer.

"With you, love."

I give it one last try. "Where are we? And I swear I'll scream if you say we are together."

I can feel him laughing. "We are on a trail that only I know, and getting close to our destination."

"Which is where?" This secret location better be worth being blind this long.

Edward didn't answer, setting me on my feet, instead. "Take off the blindfold and find out," he whispers next to my ear.

I blink a few times and am speechless by what I see—a beautiful, flower-filled meadow and in the center of it all a table set for two.

"The weather is why I cancelled on you, and tonight is special," Edward says when turn to face him.

I still couldn't find my voice as I racked my brain. _Our wedding anniversary._

He escorts me over to the table. On my plate is a long, velvet box. Opening it, I reveal a diamond and sapphire pendant.

"Happy anniversary, my darling wife," Edward murmurs and kisses the shell of my ear.

I smile up at him. I pull a padded envelope out of my purse, sliding it over to him after he sits down.

He picks it up with a huge grin, ripping the envelope. His smile gets bigger and he looks at me.

I nod, my gift to him is a nameplate—Mrs. Cullen.

The end


	4. I Got Married

Challenge Number/Title: #4—Mother's Forgiveness

Date Posted: 02/04/2013

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: PG-13

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Drama

Character Pairing: Edward/Bella/Esme

I Got Married

Esme is going to kill me.

I didn't make it to Forks last night as planned to stay with my adoptive parents for the weekend. The night before was the first time in five years I hadn't made it after telling them I'd be there, but that's not why she's going to murder me. Sighing, I run a hand through my hair, looking over at the fidgeting young woman—my wife—sitting next to me.

I replay last night's events in my head as I continue driving.

_I walked out of the restaurant with my work colleagues, laughing and carrying on while the three valets retrieved each car. I was the last, and while I waited alone, I heard crying. When I turned to find the source, I saw a young woman sitting on the curb and away from the streetlamp's reach. _

_I motioned for the valet in my car to park it in a vacant spot near the front door. Moving slowly, I approached the crying girl._

"_Hi," I said, crouching down next to her. "Are you okay?"_

_Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "No. My boyfriend just broke up with me, I got fired, and to top it all off, my father kicked me out."_

I still don't know what made me ask what I did.

"_Why did he kick you out?"_

_She considered my question before answering. "I'm pregnant, and he believes my ex-boyfriend—that I got in this predicament before we started dating."_

_My head dropped as I shook it. What kind of father would believe a guy over his daughter? "So, you confront the baby's father and he breaks up with you."_

"_Yes, in front of my manager. Because of the scene the jackass caused, I got fired."_

_There had to be something I could do for her. "What's your name?"_

"_Bella."_

"_Well, Bella, my name's Edward. I know I'm a virtual stranger, but I would like to help you." I offered her my hand._

_She bit her lip, looking from my outstretched hand to my face three times in what I regarded as disbelief._

"_You can trust me." I gave her a smile when she took my hand._ _"My car is over here. I need to get the keys from the valet."_

_When I learned the rest of Bella's heart-wrenching story—how her mother left when she was three and how her father was never there for her—I knew there was only one thing I could do—protect her. The best way to do that was for me to marry her._

_We weren't too far from the airport, so I called my personal pilot and asked him to meet me there as soon as he could. "How old are you?" I asked, getting on the interstate._

"_Hmm … umm … why do you want to know?"_

_I blew out a breath, how to explain? "I want to protect you."_

"_Protect me? How?"_

_This was the hard part. "By marrying you … tonight."_

_She swallowed hard. "You don't have to do that, Edward. I'll manage on my own—like I always have."_

_My eyes closed briefly, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. "I know I don't have to—" she cut me off._

"_My father will believe you are the daddy. He'll kill you." Her hands went to her flat stomach._

_She had a point. I sighed, thinking. "It's a risk I'm willing to face, if it helps you. I'll even take a paternal test when the baby is born to prove I'm not."_

_Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lip disappear into her mouth. "Twenty-one," she whispered._

_What? Oh, her age. Good, she's legal._

"_How old are you?" she asked._

"_Twenty-nine," I answered, parking in front of a hanger. "My pilot will be here shortly."_

_I looked over at her. Her eyes were wide, but not in fear. I think she was in awe._

"_I have money, plenty."_

"_How much?"_

"_I'm not quite sure. I let my accountant handle things—in my checking account, about sixty thousand."_

_I don't know how it was possible, but her eyes widened further. Her head swung to the hanger, as the doors opened. My private jet was being towed out onto the tarmac—Cullen Corp. written in tall blue letters along the fuselage._

_Her gasp made me jump._

"_Cullen? Edward Cullen?" she asked with her eyes back on me._

_I chuckled. "The one and only."_

_It took me the three-hour flight to Vegas to convince Bella that marrying me would be beneficial. I pointed out several times that I would be able to add her to my insurance, provide her and her child with excellent medical care, and that she wouldn't have to work._

_She accepted my proposal, but insisted on working._

_I'd work on getting her to consider not seeking employment. If couldn't talk her into it, then I'd make her my personal assistant._

_We nearly got into a fight about me getting her an expensive diamond ring, but I saw her hesitation at trying on the ring I picked out. So, I let her chose, and the one she decided on was simple, but elegant._

_The wedding ceremony was quick, though it took me some time to talk two friends and their wives into witnessing for us—it was luck they were in Vegas. I did have to send the courtesy limo the chapel offered to pick them up. All in all, it was a memorable wedding._

_Six hours later, Bella and I were married and headed back to Seattle. She fiddled with the one karat diamond ring, moving it back and forth, the whole flight back. She was silent when I drove to my condo, but I got her giggling when I swept her up into my arms, carrying her across the threshold._

My eyes stray to Bella. She's still fiddling with the ring. I don't know what more I can say that I hadn't said this morning.

"_I'm taking you to meet my parents," I said once we were off the ferry._

"_What?" she whispered in panic._

"_They'll love you."_

"_Right." She snorted. "They'll think I'm a gold-digger."_

"_No they won't."_

The turn to the house was coming up. I place my hand over hers, effectively stopping her nervous behavior.

"They won't judge you," I remind her. "But my mother is going to kill me. You'll be rich."

"Don't say things like that," Bella says, breaking the silence she has been in since we left the ferry.

I make the turn onto the long, winding gravel driveway. Bella squeezes my hand, like a vise clamp would.

Esme and Carlisle are sitting on the porch when I come to a stop in front of the house. I motion for Bella to stay in the car before getting out.

Carlisle raises a brow at my car, but says nothing about its occupant. Esme, observant as always, notices my left hand—the platinum and diamond band—and starts to say something.

"You don't even have to ask," I start. "I got married last night."

"You did what!" Esme yells, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

"I got married," I reply slowly before explaining the reason why.

Esme walks into the house, her face unreadable. I look to Carlisle. He raises his hand as if saying he has no advice for me.

I go back over to my car, helping Bella out. I shake my head at her unspoken question.

When Bella and I turn, Esme is coming down the porch steps with a tray. Carlisle follows.

Okay, this is strange for her.

I take two wine glasses, handing one to Bella.

"I can't," Bella whispers.

"Sparkling cider," Esme answers with a wink.

I smile.

Raising her glass, Esme toasts Bella, saying, "Welcome to the family. As for my idiot son,"—her gaze falls on me—"he's forgiven for not calling after the ceremony."

I let out a hearty laugh. Calling home didn't cross my mind, but at least I wasn't dead.

The end

**A/N: I thought a little humor would be good for this prompt. Thanks to . .Sight and Team Edward Rules All for their helping editing this chapter.**


	5. Emmett's Bawdy Rhyme

Challenge Number/Title: #5—The Limerick

Date Posted: 02/12/2013

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: PG-13

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Friendship

Character Pairing: Emmett/Bella

Emmett's Bawdy Rhyme

Esme let me into the house over two hours ago, and that's how long it took me to write five lines. Edward and I were doing our homework together. Normally he came over to my house, but Charlie had to go out of town. That left us working in Edward's living room.

I'm going to write a limerick

To see if I'll match the metric

And I think that'll do

To prove nothing's taboo

Who'd've thought it missed all logic

Groaning, I look at what I've written. It is a piece of crap and I know it, but at least I gave it my best shot; if it doesn't match the rhythm, no skin off my back. My assignment was to write a limerick; I've done that.

I'm a great writer, but when it comes to composing a five line nonsensical, rhyming poem, forget it. I huff and push my laptop away from me.

"It's not that bad, Bella," Edward says, reading over my shoulder. "As a matter of fact, it's much better than mine. All I have is a blank screen."

"I don't see why we have to try our hand at different writing techniques," I complain, turning in my chair to face Edward.

"'Another creative outlet opens the mind when it is blocked,'" Edward replies, quoting our English teacher.

I snort. Right! When is writing a limerick going to unblock my mind; reading them, yeah that unlocks my brain just fine, thank you very much.

"There once was a lady named Dave / Who went to an early grave / They say she was tame / And no ones to blame / Well that's the story of Dave," I recite, looking up at the ceiling.

"Hey, that's pretty good. Do you mind if I use that?"

"Might as well." I recite the rhyme again as Edward types.

"She sure does have a short story," Edward says as he hits print.

"Who does?" Emmett asks, jumping on the couch.

"A lady named Dave," I remark.

"Limericks?" Emmett asks.

Edward nods. "I hate rhyming and the beats are hard to count."

"A certain young fellow named Bee-Bee / Wished to wed a woman named Phoebe. / "But," he said. "I must see / What the clerical fee / Be before Phoebe be Phoebe Bee-Bee," Emmett says.

"Oh, hush." I throw a pillow at Emmett. "We all know that you rocked this assignment last year."

"It pays to have skills in the rhyming area."

Emmett slouches when I hurl another pillow at him; instead of hitting my target, the pillow hits Edward in the face.

"Hey, what was that for?" Edward looks at me, waiting for an answer.

I point at Emmett, saying, "It was meant for your brother."

Edward shakes his head, picking up the pillow and tossing it on the couch.

Of course, what Emmett doesn't know is that his girlfriend, Rosalie, is standing behind him with a book. She smacks him in the head with it.

"Ouch!" He reaches a hand up and rubs his head. "That wasn't nice, Ed."

I can't help it; I start laughing. Emmett deserves whatever Rosalie is planning to do next.

"And taking credit for a limerick I wrote you is," Rosalie says close to his ear.

Emmett stiffens, turning his head. "Babe, I never took full credit."

Rosalie raises an eyebrow and Emmett squirms.

"Okay, maybe I did, but every single one I wrote was dirty. I couldn't turn in any of them."

I push my laptop over to him. "Write one now, _Rhyme Master_," I say with a giggle as Rosalie thumps him on the head again.

Rubbing his noggin, Emmett looks at me. I cross my arms.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes go by, and Emmett is still staring at a blank screen.

"Problems?" Edward asks when I nudge him, pointing at his brother.

"Nope. I'm thinking of all the words that rhyme with _bell_."

I shake my head and go back to my math assignment.

Another five minutes pass by before I hear typing.

"Done!" Emmett bellows a half hour later.

"Let's hear it," Rosalie says.

"There once was a girl named Bella / Who wanted to hookup with a fella / The problem you see / Was she had to pee / And now she's a girl with no fella."

My face heats at the bawdy poem. How dare Emmett write that? I'm about to say something about it being rude when I hear, "Emmett!"

We all turn. Esme is standing wide-eyed in the kitchen doorway.

"What?" Emmett asks innocently.

"Don't 'what' me. You know what." Esme purses her lips and her gaze settles on me.

I bet my face is beet red now, knowing Esme heard Emmett's rhyme. It wasn't that bad, even if it was about me. It was a traditional limerick and most of them were dirty.

"Sorry, Bella," Emmett says, getting up. "I shouldn't have used your name."

I watch as he walks out the front door. Rosalie follows soon after.

"I can't believe him," Edward says at the same time Esme starts laughing.

"What?" we both ask at the same time.

"'There once was a beauty named Bella / Who had her choice of a fella / It's easy to see / Why she wouldn't pick me / I'm just a bawdy young fella,'" she read.

Whoa! The two limericks were like night and day. I put a restraining hand on Edward's shoulder, stand, and move toward the front door.

"Why?" I overhear Rosalie ask.

Emmett doesn't respond.

"A shrug is not going to get you out of this."

I decide to save him.

"Rose, give Emmett and me a minute," I say, stepping onto the porch.

Once he and I are alone, I sit next to him on the steps. "Are you jealous of Edward?" I ask.

"What? No!" he answers, shaking his head.

I raise a brow.

"I think you're wonderful and beautiful and perfect for Edward."

"Then the limerick on my laptop ..."

"Oh. It's just a limerick."

"Right." I snort. "And the capital of Denmark is Bismarck," I state. "We both know that's not true. So what gives?"

"Nothing gives, Bella. I'm not jealous of Edward; if anything, I'm jealous of you."

I'm taken aback—Emmett's jealous of me.

"Hold on, that came out wrong," Emmett says, trying to backpedal. "What I meant was I'm jealous of the relationship you and Edward have."

"So, you are jealous of your brother."

"No. Yes. I don't know. It's just … I look at the two of you and see what I wish Rosalie and I had that—a constant spark, a connection."

_Huh? There was a spark between Edward and me? _"I hate to break it to you, Em, but I've often wanted what you and Rose have," I say.

"Really?"

"Yes. You and Rose have something special, too. What I envy is the way she forgives you for doing something stupid, and you extend the same forgiveness when she does too. I don't know if I could forgive Edward if he did half the things you have."

Emmett's silent for a long while. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have changed the limerick as I read it, but I didn't want Edward to get the wrong idea."

"And he would have decked you had I not stopped him."

A chuckle has us turning. Edward's standing in the doorway.

"You're right about that, Bella. And I heard the whole conversation. It's good to know you're not after my girl, Em. Just keep the dirty limericks to yourself."

"That's a deal."

The end


	6. The Cheval Mirror Sees All

Challenge Number/Title: #6—The Inanimate POV (Furniture)

Date Posted: 02/18/2013

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: PG-13

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: General

Character Pairing: Alice, Bella, Edward, Emmett, Jasper, and Rosalie

The Cheval Mirror Sees All

**A/N: A cheval mirror is a freestanding, full-length mirror mounted between two upright posts, which rest traditionally on four trestle legs, or a supportive frame known as a horse ("cheval" means "horse" in French). The mirror is attached to its frame by screws, which allow it to tilt; the feet are often on casters, for portability.**

Oh, the secrets I can tell. For a full length, standing floor mirror, I see more than what is on the surface; I notice what the looker refuses to acknowledge. To me, time doesn't mean a thing. Days, weeks, months, or years could go by and I wouldn't take notice. I only reflect what I see, and let me tell you, I've seen plenty. Today happens to be one of those days where I saw plenty.

Most of the time, I see nothing but an unused bedroom. A single bed, covered with a black and gold blanket, sits in front of the window. There's something next to it, but I can't see what it is. A tall bookcase is across from me, near the only door; it is filled to overflowing with books and magazines.

The door opens and a brown-eyed beauty enters. She comes to stand in front of me, peering at her reflection. Her skin is fair and unmarred. The long, straight, dark brown hair lacks its normal shine. It looks like she's been crying again. What I notice right off is the red nose and puffy eyes. Of course, she's not interested in what I see. I reflect back as she runs a hand down the front of the flowery shirt, it comes to rest on her stomach. It's more pronounced than the last time she stood in front of me.

Someone wraps their arms around her. She stiffens and looks up, tears threatening to spill over as a chin rests on her shoulder. Ah, Adonis—perfection. His bronze hair is a disarrayed mess; his green eyes meet Beauty's brown ones through my reflection. I haven't seen him in a long time, but that doesn't matter.

Beauty doesn't look happy to see him, and struggles to free herself. She says something to him.

Adonis' lips move hesitantly. He's responding to whatever Beauty said. His hand comes to rest atop hers on her stomach. Continuing to talk, his other hand strokes her bare arm.

Beauty smiles weakly at him. Turning her head, her lips connect with his. The kiss is brief; out of all the kisses I have reflected back, this one is bittersweet.

Beauty frees herself from his hold as a wavy-haired blonde harpy enters, wildly gesturing with her hands. She is astoundingly gorgeous, but her stern, hard face is what makes her a harpy.

Clad in red leather, Harpy motions to Beauty while yelling at Adonis. His head falls, and I can't see his reaction to what is being said. Harpy apparently doesn't like this. Fisting her hands, she approaches Adonis and forces him to look at her; her nails digging into his chin, drawing droplets of blood.

Beauty screams. She moves to stand behind Harpy, grabbing the hand holding Adonis. This causes Harpy to release Adonis.

I don't miss a thing. Another enters the room, and Adonis is pulled around. He comes in contact with a fist and is sent flying backward. Stumbling, he goes down to his rear, not getting back up. A brutish, muscular guy kneels in front him, his hands on Adonis' shoulders.

Brute is shrugged off.

Adonis brings his knees up, hanging his head again and burying his hands in his bronze hair.

Brute isn't swayed and drags Adonis up off the floor. Slamming his captive against the wall, he points to where Harpy is holding a crying Beauty. With teeth bared, the big brute shakes his captive, getting into his face.

Adonis just stands there, taking the abuse. He raises his hands in an attempt to push Brute away. His eyes are shining, like that of a puppy. To me, he looks lost, defeated.

Another gentleman and a lady enter, assessing the situation. He's a blond and very lean. He towers over the other two guys. Placing a hand on Brute, the Gent coaxes him into releasing Adonis.

The lady has spiky hair and is standing with Beauty and Harpy. Spiky shakes her head at something the Gent says. Spiky moves out of my line of vision before I can take more notice of her.

Adonis brushes by the Gent and Brute, trying to get back to Beauty. Harpy blocks his path, starting to yell at him again.

I think Adonis has had enough. He roars at Harpy. Harpy raises her hand to strike him, but Beauty catches her hand and moves around her.

Beauty listens to what Adonis says. Her lip disappears between her teeth, and he reaches up—freeing it— before cupping her cheek.

The others are standing back watching the pair, not moving.

Adonis runs a hand through his hair, shoving the other into his pant pocket. Slowly, he withdraws a black box, looking at the bystanders a moment and pointing to the door.

Harpy and Brute both shake their heads.

With head hung, Adonis kneels in front of Beauty. His shoulders go and down, his lips purse as they do so.

I notice Adonis' jaw is swelling from the blow he received from Brute.

Adonis looks up at Beauty and winces as he starts speaking. He opens the box , revealing what's inside. Whatever it is, it's sparkling in the light coming from the lamp near me.

Beauty's hands fly to her face, covering her mouth. Soon, she's nodding. Tears are streaming down her face, but she's smiling.

Adonis stands, taking hold of Beauty's left hands. He drops the box before slipping a sparkling diamond ring on her finger.

Raising her hand, Beauty strokes Adonis' jaw. He winces, but doesn't reach up to capture the hand. Beauty kisses him gently where her hand was a moment before.

Their time is up. Spiky approaches, hugging Beauty.

Harpy rushes out the door with Brute following, but they return in no time and glasses containing a golden liquid are handed out. There is one glass of clear liquid and ice, Beauty takes this glass.

Adonis wraps his arm around Beauty as each glass is raised in salute. Everyone leaves and I'm alone.

Much later, Adonis and Beauty return. Slipping into the bed, the light is shut off and all goes black.

It seems whatever happened has been resolved.

The End

**A/N: Thanks to smudgedcrimsonlipstick and SecretlySeverus for editing this chapter.**

**This is the first chapter, ever, that I have written with absolutely no dialogue. It was difficult, but worth it in the end.**

**Were you able to identify who each description was supposed to be?**


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